The In Between
by Tarafina
Summary: They had less than a day before they had to return to life apart and he was unwilling to waste it in a state of melancholy, wishing for things out of their control. :Klaine:


**Title**: The In-Between  
**Category**: Glee  
**Genre**: Romance  
**Ship**: Kurt/Blaine  
**Rating**: Teen  
**For**: azraeldoesnotdispute, who asked for sweet boy kisses!  
**Word Count**: 1,085  
**Summary**: They had less than a day before they had to return to life apart and he was unwilling to waste it in a state of melancholy, wishing for things out of their control.

**_The In-Between  
_**-1/1-

When he opened the door, the person on the other side left him speechless. Well, metaphorically. Because much like Rachel Berry, Kurt Hummel had a way with words.

"B— _Blaine__! _What...?" He shook his head, his eyes darting in confusion. "Am I dreaming?" His eyes widened with horror. "Did I pass out in choreography again?" He looked down at his clothes with despair. "It's the _layers!__" He threw his hands up. "_They're not made for rigorous training!"

Chuckling to himself, Blaine smiled fondly at his boyfriend. "You're not dreaming."

"Then what... What are you _doing _here?" He frowned, shaking his head. "I mean, not that I'm _complaining_, but I thought we agreed…"

"I know! Christmas break, but..." His shoulders fell, smile turning crooked before falling entirely. "I _missed _you." His brows furrowed. "I know it's unexpected and I'm only here for the night, but..." He shook his head. "Any time counts, right?"

Kurt's face softened. He took in the navy blue sweater vest and easy grey slacks rolled up at the ankles, showing off his usual lack of socks. It felt like ages, _too long_, since he'd had him this close, this _real_. Skype could only do so much and in the end it often left them both wanting, for that familiar, warm touch. The strength and sturdy weight of Blaine's body had been absent since he'd left Lima for New York and NYADA and he'd felt it; the in-between, the time before their happily ever after, trying to tear them apart but so-far unsuccessful.

There was a moment, brief but urgent, where he feared that reaching for him might end this all too realistic dream. That while his hand might touch something warm and seemingly familiar, he would eventually awaken to find it was just a trick of his mind, reminding him that as much as Kurt wanted him there, he was left alone still. But as his fingers collided with the soft fabric of Blaine's cable-knit sweater vest, his breath left him, quick and thankful. He tugged, drawing him forward so quick he stumbled and reached to balance himself with his hand on Kurt's him. Their faces were mere inches apart, breath shared between parted lips. His eyes found the bright orange bowtie at his boyfriend's neck and he smiled, wide and emotional.

"You're real," he said, on a relieved sigh.

Blaine's deep chuckle hit him like a warm weight, settling raw and heavy in his gut. Swallowing thickly, Kurt's gaze rose up and met his hazel eyes, fringed with long, dark lashes. And Blaine's smile faded away, no longer sweet and happy. His face tightened, a muscle in his cheek flexing. Desire filled his features. Tension-filled _want_ radiated off of him, seeming to reach out and rattle Kurt's very bones. His skin warmed, he could feel as his cheeks flushed. His breathing picked up, uneven, skittering over Blaine's lips. And suddenly all those months spent apart, those long nights after they'd Skype'd and the lack of each other's voice or face felt heavy and wrong, built up until it was too much to be even a few inches apart.

Kurt's arms wrapped around Blaine's neck in the same moment their lips slanted together, warm and smooth, fitting so perfectly, so rightly, that it was a wonder they'd ever parted. He could feel Blaine's hands sliding up his back, even through the layers, stilling only to grip the back of his sweater tight in his long, dexterous fingers.

Blaine sucked his lower lip, teeth dragging faintly across them, before his tongue flicked the back of Kurt's teeth and reached out to dab and stroke his tongue into reaction.

Kurt's fingers curled at the nape of Blaine's neck, in the soft, dark wave of his hair. His eyebrows rose, though his eyes remained closed, as he felt the weight of Blaine's body maneuvering him back, through the door and into his apartment. He vaguely heard the door close, but paid it little attention as Blaine's hands were moving, gliding down his back, making him arch up until their chests were pressed in tight together. Finally, they were untucking his sweater, the shirt beneath, from his pressed pants, and he let out a high, quick sigh as he felt his fingers against the bare skin of his back, feather-light at first before pressing insistently.

Blaine drew back from him to pantingly ask, "Room? B-Bedroom? Where's—?"

"There. There!" he said, motioning quickly, dismissively, before his mouth was covering Blaine's again, hard and needy, not wanting to waste a second, a moment.

He could feel Blaine's chuckle reverberate through him and knew as they started moving again, where they were headed now.

To a proper welcome, of course.

As he fell back on the bed, the familiar weight of Blaine's body atop him, just inches apart once more, he drew his fingers along the side of Blaine's face and told him, "I missed you, too."

And it was true. Despite the excitement of New York, of being in NYADA, there was always a part of him left behind in Lima. A part that he never wanted to leave; that he had always hoped would return to him. Yes, they talked daily and they Skype'd, but it was these moments, the silent intimacy of it all that was missing. He didn't regret leaving to pursue his dreams and he knew Blaine would never want him to. But it did remind him that as much as it all mattered, as much as everything he was doing meant to him, it would mean even more with Blaine there to share in it with him.

But they had less than a day before they had to return to life apart and he was unwilling to waste it in a state of melancholy, wishing for things out of their control. So he turned Blaine over onto his back and he traced the dark curve of his eyebrow with the pad of his thumb, a reverent, loving smile tugging at his mouth, and he told himself that it would all be worth it in the end.

Blaine's hand covered his, fingers flicking over the pulse at his wrist, and he saw the same resolve reflected in his eyes.

When their lips met, and repeatedly as the night went on, and even as they said their goodbyes in a long embrace before he boarded his plane home, the sentiment was obvious. "I love you. I love you. And this is just the beginning."

[**End.**]


End file.
